A Game of Murder
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: A murderer is running rampant at NCIS! It's up to one man to find the killer...before it's too late. Written for the NFA Community Shall I Play the Villain? Challenge.


The murderer watched them pass by, the many employees of NCIS, walking around the building, not knowing that one of them would soon be dead. Well, not just one; the murderer was hoping to kill many of them, but for now the murderer would have to start with just one.

The question was which one? There were so many good ones to choose from. Perhaps start with a security guard? Or maybe go for the ever happy-go-lucky Abby, a death that would surely cause much mourning within the agency. Would it be best to start small or go big? Dare the murderer go for Director Vance? It would cause a stir, no doubt.

The murderer sighed. No, that was too big a murder for now. It would be smarter to start with someone lower in the agency hierarchy, one of the newer recruits.

A pretty young blonde passed by, her silky hair falling around her shoulders and bouncing slightly with her every step. She was speaking animatedly with a friend, not even aware that someone had their eyes trained on her.

As she passed, the murderer smiled. She would be perfect.

* * *

Director Vance announced the news the following morning after the deed was done. "Agent Marilyn Hanes, the Probie on Patrick Clark's team, was murdered last night. The culprit has left a note for us containing a clue to his or her identity. Obviously, he or she is mocking us, goading us to figure it out. We have reason to believe that this murderer won't stop with Agent Hanes, so we advise you all to proceed with great caution. In the meantime, we have someone assigned to the case and we will keep you all updated on it."

Murmurings of the murder echoed through the building. People theorized about who the mysterious murderer may be. Everyone had a guess, but they couldn't be certain they were right. All they had to go on was one clue.

"I say it's that new Intel guy," Abby said. She was leaning back against Tim's desk as the team discussed the case. "Robert what's his face. He gives me the creeps."

"Giving you the creeps doesn't make him a murderer, Abigail," Ducky informed her. "Though, I quite agree. There is something very off-putting about him, isn't there?"

"My vote goes for Wendy Jenner in Personnel," Tony put in. "Talk about your Wicked Witch of the West."

"She is from Georgia, Tony," Ziva said. "Last I checked that was not part of the west."

He ignored the faux pas in her English and continued on. "She's hiding something. Yesterday I dropped by her office and she got all jumpy, as though I'd caught her in the middle of something."

"I seriously doubt she was in the middle of murdering Agent Hanes when you walked in," Tim said with a roll of his eyes.

"No, but she might have been typing up that cryptic clue to leave when she went in for the kill."

Ziva smiled in amusement at Tony's wild theory. "I think the murderer is someone we would never expect."

Ducky nodded. "I must say I agree with Ziva. We cannot make our judgments based on who rubs us the wrong way. Our murderer could be someone sitting here right now."

"Don't even joke like that, Ducky," Abby scolded with a small shiver. She didn't like to think about any of them being the murderer.

Gibbs' whistle pierced through the air, stopping the conversation cold. "Enough talk of this murderer stuff. We've got work to do."

Abby and Ducky took the hint and bade the team goodbye before retreating to their areas of the building. The team stopped discussing the murder, but it was still on all of their minds…except Gibbs'.

* * *

It had been a long grueling day and it had taken its toll on Abby. She hung her coat up and unzipped her boots. She loved her platform boots, but it was nice to kick them off after a long day's work. She gave her now bare feet a quick massage and took a moment to rest.

Slightly rejuvenated, Abby grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped the cap off on the side of the counter. It bubbled over a bit, but she was able to grab a sip before too much spilled out. The beer was nice; it helped calm her nerves a little. "How can I be completely calm when there's a murderer out there?" she asked aloud as she strode to her computer.

A half-empty bottle was placed on the coaster on her computer desk and she clicked into her account. It was too early to go to bed so she figured she could kill some time online. The screen opened and she immediately checked her e-mail.

And that's when it happened. Poor Abby never saw it coming. She was dead within minutes.

* * *

News of her death hit hard. Abby had been a very well-liked person and no one could imagine a murderer targeting her (save for the whole Mikal Mahwer thing and Landon thing).

Once again the NCIS employees were told to be cautious and were assured that someone was on the case, working diligently to capture the person responsible. Again, a note had been left for them to decipher, but this one was as enigmatic as the first one.

"Why would a killer want to go after Abby of all people?" Tim asked, his face resting in his hands. "Everyone likes Abby!"

"Perhaps that is exactly why the murderer chose her," Ziva offered in a soft voice. "They knew her death would cause an uproar in the agency."

"Whoever this guy is, he's good," Tony said glumly.

"And just how do you know it is a guy, Tony? It could very easily be a woman."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Are you admitting to something, David?"

"No," she said quickly, "I am merely reminding you not to assume the murderer is a man. After all, you were the one who originally thought the culprit was the personnel woman." Now she was the one to look at him suspiciously. "Or are you certain it's a man because the murderer is you?"

"Hey! Don't put words in my mouth!" he exclaimed angrily.

"Guys!" Tim shouted before the two were at their throats. "This fighting isn't going to do anyone good! Neither of you is the murderer!"

They turned their attention to him, still ever suspicious. "And how do you know that neither of us is the murderer, McGee?" Ziva asked.

Tony nodded. "Yeah, there's no way you could know that for certain unless…unless _you're_ the murderer!" he shouted accusingly.

Tim through his hands up in the air in exasperation. "I give up!" he bellowed with great frustration. "Fine, tear each other apart for all I care!"

"Ha! Says the murderer so he escapes suspicion!"

"I'm _not_ the murderer! Now can we just drop it?"

"I second that," Gibbs said as he entered. "Cool it with this murderer stuff. We haven't got anything to prove who is and isn't the murderer. In the meantime, we've got real cases to work. McGee, Tony, go down to the lab and see if the results have come back on those fingerprints.

The men did as ordered. They knew better than to argue with Gibbs. When they entered the elevator, though, Tony leaned over and whispered, "Think there's a reason he doesn't want us talking about the murders?"

"Who? Gibbs?" Tim asked. He shrugged. "I guess he doesn't want it to affect our work."

Tony shook his head, obviously disagreeing. "I think _he _might be the murderer!"

Tim just rolled his eyes.

* * *

As the days went by, the murders continued. By the end of the week two security guards, the personnel lady Tony had originally suspected, and three special agents were dead. One of those special agents was Ziva.

No one had been charged with the murders and the people of NCIS were beginning to doubt whether or not anyone ever would be.

"At this rate we'll all be dead before they find the murderer!" bemoaned Nikki Jardine. "And I thought germs were frightening!"

Tony gave a sad sigh. "I never thought that Ziva would fall victim to the murderer. She seemed to smart for that."

"It's not always about smarts, Tony," Ducky said. "Sometimes it's just the luck of the draw."

"Yeah, well my luck is running out. I've already come close to death, like three times or something!"

"Two," Tim corrected. "That time when we were on the Chimera doesn't really count since you weren't really dying."

"Not the point, Probie! My number's up! I know it is!" He grabbed Tim by the lapels of his jacket and shook him. "You've got to find this guy, McGee!"

"Why me?"

"Because! You're supposed to be the smart one, the one who's good at figuring out puzzles and stuff! Figure out what the clues mean!"

The clues. They'd been left for each murder, yet each seemed as mysterious as the next. There was something familiar about them, something on the very tip of his tongue, but every time he thought he was on the verge of it, the thought disappeared, like smoke in the wind.

Still, Tim wasn't one to let someone down when they begged for help, especially when that person was someone who had spent years tormenting him and calling him names. Just knowing that Tony would now "owe him one" was enough of a reward. "Okay, I'll do my best," he promised. "But I'll have to get to it tonight. I'm swamped with paperwork right now. Besides, how much can change in one day?"

* * *

The answer to Tim's rhetorical question was "a lot." By the end of the day there had been three more murders. The person responsible for this was getting surer and cockier by the minute. Tim regretted not getting to the case immediately, especially when one of the victims turned out to be Tony.

"I let you down," he said aloud to no one in particular. "I let you down, Tony, but I swear I'll fix this! I'll find your murderer and avenge your death!"

"McGee!" Gibbs bellowed, pulling Tim from his impassioned speech. "Would you get back to work? Hunt the murderer on your own time!"

He sat down sheepishly. "Yes, boss."

* * *

NCIS was dark and desolate, but Tim sat alert at his desk, looking over the clues:

_Deadly is what I am and you should be afraid._

_Unless you believe yourself immortal (which no man is)_

_Consider yourself forewarned that I will come for you when your ticket is up_

_Know that I am waiting in the dark corner, ready for you to lower your guard_

_You'll do well to keep on your toes, lest I should catch you in a moment of weakness_

_Many have died so far; will you be the next?_

_Assume nothing and suspect everyone_

_Looks as though no one is up to the task of catching me_

_Live and let live, I say, though that is no longer the case for you_

_All right, I suppose I should stop this game and consider myself the victor_

_Ready or not, I'll soon be coming for you as well_

His eyes widened. Could it really have been so simple? Of course! It had been right there in front of them the entire time!

He grabbed this newfound evidence and headed home. There was nothing more he could do tonight, but tomorrow he'd arrive bright and early to make his announcement. He figured someone would be murdered that evening, but at least Tim could take comfort in knowing that person's death will not have been in vain, nor would the other deaths.

* * *

Vance called an all-inclusive meeting the following morning after Tim had informed him of what he knew. "Agent Timothy McGee believes he has discovered our murderer," he announced to the large crowd. A soft murmur could be heard as everyone chattered excitedly. Finally they would all know who was behind the recent gruesome killing spree (assuming, of course, that Tim was correct).

He took the podium after Vance had stepped away. "After looking over the clues left behind by our murderer, I can think of only one person it could be." He paused for dramatic affect before saying, "Our murderer is…Dr. Ducky Mallard!"

Everyone gasped and turned their attention to the M.E., who, in turn, just smiled. "You're quite right, Timothy. I was beginning to think no one would figure it out!"

"Well, I realized it when I put all of the clues together. Otherwise I would have never gotten it." To prove his point, he pulled up a projection of the compiled clues. "When listed in order, the first letter of each clue spells out "Ducky Mallard" vertically. Well, it spells out "Ducky Mallar," he conceded, "but I assumed you were planning to use the final 'D' in your next murder."

"Ah, yes, about that. I should tell you I murdered Agent Jardine earlier this morning. But yes, you would have found the final letter in that clue."

The crowd applauded politely for Tim. A few people shouted out "Bravo" as well. Vance nodded approvingly as he took the podium once again. "I think I speak for everyone when I say well done, Agent McGee. We all thank you for stopping our murderer, albeit after a fair amount of murders."

A familiar brunette head peeked out from between the throngs of people. "So does this mean we're not dead anymore?"

"Yes, Miss Scuito, you and the other victims are alive once again."

"Awesome!" she exclaimed with a fist pump. "I mean, not that I don't love being dead and all, but it gets old after a while. Although, we did have some awesome cheesecake!"

The dead—or, rather, the undead, as they were now alive once again—began discussing the perks of their afterlife as the crowd of people dispersed. When Tim walked by, they all gave him a pat on the back, giving him kudos on detecting skills.

"Yes," Ducky said, "well, I suppose I should find a new murderer."

"Ooh, I hope I get killed again," Abby said, jumping up and down a bit.

"Yeah, and this time maybe I'll figure out the murderer before twelve people get killed," Tony said sarcastically, giving Tim a headslap.

"Hey! That's the thanks I get for avenging your death?"

"No, that's the thanks you get for letting me get killed!"

Gibbs shuffled by, sourly shaking his head. He hated the agency's ever-running game of Murder in the Dark.


End file.
